Learning to Understand
by Aqua15
Summary: When Hermione loses both her parents and closes herself in from the world, she only tells her new diary about her feelings. And Snape learns, that sometimes to be understood by others requires understanding others. Eventually HGSS
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to JKR.

Prologue – Christmas presents

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, her still unsteady gaze drifting towards the window. Outside it was snowing heavily, covering the grounds around Hogwarts in a thick, blinding layer of white. She groaned and sat up in her huge four poster bed she could call her own, since she had been appointed Head Girl at the start of term of her seventh year.

Christmas.

It was her first Christmas at Hogwarts that she hadn't anticipated to come. She wasn't in the mood of a cheery holiday and Jingle-Bells all around. It reminded her of her losses, making her pains and fears resurface, after she had so long worked to subdue them into the depths of her soul.

Time will heal all wounds, they said, but Hermione doubted that. Her parents had been killed in a Death Eater raid six months ago, but her pain hadn't lessened during this time. If anything, it had just grown.

But she didn't show this pain to anyone. She was the one, who had to soothe the pain of the others, who had lost their parents or families to Voldemort. It was her duty as a Head Girl. Hermione surely had known this when she had accepted the position at start of term, and she had thought, that helping other to deal with this pain would help her to deal with hers. It did, but she still had some days – like this – when she just wanted to curl in her bed and forget she existed.

Well, no such luck. She had to pull herself together and be strong, she chided herself and determinedly got up and dressed.

She put on a cheerful facade and went down the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Harry and Ron were waiting already for her. Other students, who also had chosen to stay at Hogwarts, were sitting around the room, unpacking their presents.

"Morning sleepyhead, and merry Christmas!" Ron called when he noticed her coming down the stairs. He was already sitting under the Christmas tree, a huge smile on his face.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione. I swear, I told him to wait for you, but he wouldn't listen." Harry said, pointing at Ron, who was already wearing his newest Weasley sweater, made by his mother.

"Merry Christmas!" Hermione answered, sitting down in the chair next to Harry. _Merry, indeed_, she thought but still put a forced smile on her lips.

Ron, already ripping up a new parcel that was labelled with his name, shot both Harry and Hermione a confused look, "Hey! It's Christmas! You do know what that means?"

"That it's snowing outside and we can't play Quidditch?" Harry tried, knowing what Ron wanted to hear, but like to tease him a little.

"That everyone has gone insane and sings cheerful Christmas carols?" Hermione chimed in.

"No!" Ron shouted, throwing them a dirty look, when Harry started to laugh and said, "Presents. It means presents. You haven't forgotten that, have you?"

The eager look on Ron's face brought the first real smile of the day on Hermione's face. Even though he was nearly seventeen, Ron hadn't lost his childish playfulness, yet. Getting up from the comfortable chair, both, she and Harry, settled down on the rug beside Ron and started unpacking gifts.

From the two boys Hermione had got a new book about healing potions and some sweets, from Mrs. Weasley the famous Weasley sweater and from Ginny, who had went home to the Burrow during the holidays, a charmed bracelet that would always show her current mood by glowing in different colours.

She decided she wouldn't wear it right now, even though her mood had considerably brightened since she had gotten up. But she still didn't want Harry and Ron to worry about her and the sadness she felt.

Starting to read in her new potions book, she again settled down in the chair she had previously sat in, when Harry suddenly said, "Hermione, there is still another gift for you."

Startled she looked up at Harry, who held a small package out to her. Wondering who else would have sent a gift for her, she unpacked it, retrieving a small diary, bound in green leather. When she opened the first page, a small note fell into her lap.

_It doesn't do any good to bottle up feelings. _

That was all. Hermione turned the small piece of parchment in her hands but didn't find any clue as to who had sent her the diary.

"Who sent you this?" Ron asked.

"I don't know." Hermione answered. _Thank you to whoever sent me this, though_, she thought.

"Let's go down to the Great Hall." Harry said. "I swear I'm going to die, if I'm not able to eat anything in the next five minutes." Ron nodded in agreement and both boys headed straight towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Hermione remained sitting in her chair, though, still studying her new diary.

"I'll be meeting you in the Great Hall. I still need a few moments..." she called after Harry and Ron. The boys nodded and exited though the portrait, throwing each other a knowing look. Contrary to Hermione's belief, they knew about her sadness and especially Harry could relate to it. Nevertheless they wanted to see Hermione happy again, something they knew she hadn't been in a long time.

Hermione let her fingers trail down the spine of the green booklet. She had never had a diary in her life. She had always thought, that it would be pointless to write one, if her time could be used for more interesting activities, like reading or learning, but now, as she held it in her hands, she thought, that maybe it wasn't too bad an idea. Maybe the note was right after all. Maybe she would feel better once she had written everything down.

Putting her presents inside her chambers, she went down to the Great Hall, vowing to herself, that she would make good use of her new diary.

Severus Snape hated Christmas as a rule. He hated the cheerful carols, the red and green decorations and most of all he hated his loneliness. He hated the fact, that everyone around him seemed to be happy, but he had to face fear and terror every time Voldemort decided he needed information about Hogwarts.

Dressing himself in his custom black robes, Snape snorted.

_You should have gotten used to that a long time ago_, he sneered at himself. _And it's not as if you hadn't chosen this life, yourself._

This year, again, his chambers were decorated in red and green, he realized when he stepped into his living room. Hadn't he made himself clear, when he had requested no Christmas decorations this year? Rolling his eyes at a "Silent Night" singing, smiling, red banner, he cast a silencing spell at it, and with another flick of his wand the Christmas decorations had turned from red and green to a slightly darker green and silver. If he had to look at this useless stuff for a week it should at least look like the rest of his room.

Sitting down in his favourite green chair in front of the fireplace, he noticed a small parcel lying on the table next to his chair. Curiously he took it and examined the wrapping. Who would send him a Christmas present? Dumbledore. But usually the old Headmaster gave out his presents at breakfast. So, who could have sent this one?

He opened it and held a small red booklet in his hands. _A diary?_ he mused and opening the cover he found a small piece of parchment lying on the first page. He picked it up and read the short note.

_Sometimes one can find understanding by listening to others._

Snape snorted and threw the note into the fireplace. Why should he listen to others, if no one was willing to listen to him? Whoever had sent this didn't know what it was like to be him.

Putting up his usual, surly face, he got up and went in the direction of the Great Hall. When he entered through the door behind the staff table he vowed to himself, that he would at least deduct 50 points from Gryffindor that day. This would surely improve his mood.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled more than usually as he saw Severus Snape entering the Great Hall for breakfast, wearing his most frightening scowl. So his package had been found. And also Miss Granger seemed to have received his present, as she was sitting at the Gryffindor table, deep in thought.

He admitted, that his newest plan was a bit risky, charming the two diaries and giving them to Hermione and Severus, but maybe everything would turn out alright. It always did in the end.


	2. The Diary of Hermione Granger

Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR owns everything.

Chapter One – The Diary of Hermione Granger

Sighing Hermione closed the door to her quarters. The Christmas feast had been plenty and good, but with only some students and most of the staff attending. Even though the threat of Voldemort was stronger than ever, most students had decided to go home over the holidays. They wanted to spend as much time with their families as possible.

_I wish I still had a family to come home to. But now my home is here, at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron, they are everything I have now. _

Hermione sighed again and lay down on her bed, stretching her already tired limbs. Scanning her room, she noticed the presents she had opened earlier that day lying on her desk. Among them was also the diary.

"I will keep my vow." she murmured and a short accio later the booklet was in her hands. Taking a quill from her nightstand she snuggled up in her bed. Shortly contemplating the current whirl of emotions inside her, she started to write.

_Dear Diary,  
I've never been homesick before. I had no reason to be. I knew that in July at the end of term I would see my parents again. They would come to pick me up at King's Cross Station and take me home. Then they would ask me to tell them everything. About my adventures, my friends, my studies. Mum would make tea and Dad would tell me stories about his patients. And now there won't be anyone waiting for me anywhere any more.  
Why does it still hurt so much? After six months. Why won't time heal me?  
Sometimes I just can't find any sense in studying for my future any more, if my future should only contain hurt and losses. But then I want to learn, because I want to be ready to fight. I want revenge. But I know I'm not even strong enough to take revenge. And that's what frightens and angers me at the same time.  
I don't want to feel sad. I don't want to be weak. But that's what I am. _

Then a teardrop hit the paper. Hermione didn't even bother to sign her entry. She shoved the diary from her bed and started to cry. She hadn't cried for a very long time. Not since she had found out about her parents' death. And she knew it was long overdue.

Half an hour later she had cried herself to sleep.

The next few nights she continued to first write down her thoughts and then cry until she was asleep. Her feeling of loss hadn't lessened because of this, but she had finally found a way to sort out her feelings.

_Isn't it ironic, that I'm more comfortable confiding my feelings to a book than to Harry or Ron_, she thought.

She was currently sitting in the Common Room, skimming through a faded copy of 'Attack or be attacked', a Defence Against the Dark Arts tome she had lent from the library.

_Harry and Ron would certainly listen to me, if I asked them to, but it simply feels better to bother an inanimate object with my problems than them. Merlin knows they have problems of their own._

Returning her attention to the book, Hermione didn't notice the worried looks Harry and Ron sent her way. The two boys were sitting at the nearby table, playing wizard's chess, and from time to time they checked if she was alright. Ron had been close to ask if Hermione was fine when she had stared into her book, not really looking at the pages she had turned. But then she had visibly snapped from her thoughts and her eyes had refocused on the pages. Furrowing his brows Ron shot a questioning look at Harry, who just shrugged and made his move.

Then New Year's Eve arrived and with it a new wave of sadness that crashed with full force onto Hermione. As soon as possible Hermione fled from the Great Hall were everyone was happily laughing and cheering, waiting for the New Year to begin. Burying herself in her bed she took her diary – she had started to refer to it as her 'soul book' – from her nightstand and started to write.

At the other end of the castle a very irritated Severus Snape opened his Christmas present, only to find something written in it, that hadn't been there when he had unpacked it nearly a week ago. Fleeing the 'party' right after dessert had been served, he had sat down in his favourite chair in front of the fireplace and – out of boredom – had picked up the small red booklet. Maybe he could use it as a notebook, he had mused when he had opened the first page, just to be stopped in his musings.

_Dear Diary? I've never been... What in Merlin's name is this? If this is a joke it is a very bad one, indeed. _

Snorting, he read on, realizing fast, that these were genuine diary entries from some girl, it seemed, there at Hogwarts. But who should have taken his diary to write their thoughts in it and then returning it back to his quarters?

"Pathetic." he said for at least the tenth time when he reached the sixth page where suddenly word after word of a new entry started to appear.

_That's what it is._ he thought. _Somewhere at Hogwarts some pathetic little brat writes her feelings into her precious diary and everything she has written appears in my booklet. Interesting, indeed._

With a smirk on his face he continued reading.

_Dear Diary,  
__Today is New Year's Eve. Normally I would now owl my parents and wish them a Happy New Year. I feel bad leaving the feast so soon, but if I had stayed I would have just ruined the evening for everyone. They shouldn't have to be worried for me. I_

Grabbing his quill from the table, Snape snorted and wrote beneath the last line that had appeared: _Oh, stop now, will you?_ Maybe if the girl's entries were showing in his booklet, maybe his 'entries' would appear in her diary too.

Gasping Hermione Granger stared at the words that had just appeared on the page of her diary. The tears that had already threatened to fall, again, instantly vanished and suddenly anger flared inside Hermione. What was this? Another diary, that had once belonged to Tom Riddle? Ginny had told her about the diary and how it had worked, answering her questions and even talking to her. Glaring at the rude question she wrote:

_Who are you?_

A few seconds later she got an answer.

_Why should I tell you? You should have introduced you, before you had started to write your silly little thoughts inside my diary._

Hermione gulped for air.

_You are Tom Riddle, aren't you?_

A pause.

_Not even remotely correct. _

_So who are you?_

_Let's say, that you may or may not know me. And as you don't seem fit to introduce yourself properly, I won't seem compelled to introduce myself in any way. _

Hermione's anger suddenly flared.

_Whoever you are, it doesn't matter if I introduced myself properly, or not, because YOU were the one commenting rudely on MY THOUGHTS._

_You call your wallowing in self-pity thinking?_

_How DARE you?!_

_I think I'll leave you to your 'thoughts', now._

Fuming, Hermione shut the diary. Her sadness had vanished completely, but now her whole mind was filled with anger. She would find out who that person was, that had made her so livid. No one was allowed to talk to her like that. No one.

Snape put his quill and the red booklet down on the table. _This was quite amusing, _he thought. Muttering "Nox." he went into his bedroom, wondering who could be that little brat he had enjoyed insulting.


	3. Sweet Awakening

Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR owns everything.

Chapter Two – Sweet Awakening

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the library. The boys were doing the homework that had been assigned over the holidays – Hermione had finished it eons ago – and Hermione was researching special soul-transfer charms. The books that were stacked on the table in meter- high piles, made her look, like she hid herself in her very own castle.

_There has to be a charm somewhere._ she thought frustrated as she laid the book on one of the stacks and took another one.

Hermione had been absolutely furious about the insults she had had to take from that _someone_. So – her thirst for knowledge and her desire for revenge kicking in – she had instantly started to read everything that could be remotely connected to the diary incident. But somehow she couldn't find anything at all. No reference as to what spell Tom Riddle could have used when he created his diary or what spell could identify who had insulted her.

_Maybe all the good books are in the Restricted Section, again. This means asking Harry for his Invisibility Cloak_. she smirked inwardly.

Then she sighed, this time throwing the book she was holding on the stack for 'completely useless books'.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up from his Divination assignment.

"Well, I can't find any useful information in these books."

With an incredulous look on his face, Ron said, "You mean you've looked through all these books and haven't found anything? Surely there must be some useful information on that many sheets of parchment."

"No, completely useless." Hermione said.

"I always knew books were useless." Ron smiled a cheeky grin.

Swatting him on the arm, Hermione fought the urge to sneer at him. Leaning towards Harry she whispered, "Can I borrow your cloak tonight?"

"Sure." Harry whispered back, "I'll bring it to your room after dinner."

"Thanks." Hermione smiled, taking a book from the 'not yet inspected' stack on her left.

In the dungeons Snape brewed some potions that Mme. Pomfrey had requested. The infirmary supply at that time of the year was always lacking pepper-up potions or other draughts against headache and flue.

_When will those dunderheads learn to dress according to the weather and spare me the boredom of brewing fourth year potions?_ he growled. He was Potions Master and not some overeager assistant in some tiny apothecary. What would he give for an opportunity to brew Veritaserum. Even the monthly Wolfsbane potion for – he sneered – Lupin was better than _that_. He couldn't even remember the last time he had brewed a potion worth his skill and knowledge.

After he had stirred the softly simmering potion two times counter clockwise, he extinguished the flame from under the cauldron and filled the small infirmary bottles.

Ten minutes later he sat in his green chair, 'Moste Potente Potions' lying in his lap. He had wanted to look for a challenging, not banned or illegal potion he could brew sometime in the future, but found that his eyes and his mind more often than not wandered to the diary that lay on his table. Sighing he exchanged his potions book for the diary. She hadn't written anything since their 'encounter' four days ago.

_Well, I wouldn't write my thoughts into a book, where I knew that someone was reading them, either._ he admitted grudgingly. _But it WAS fun insulting that girl._

Smirking at nothing in particular he grabbed his quill and turned the pages of the booklet until he reached the one that contained their argument.

_Maybe I could cause a reaction..._

Hermione slipped out of the Common Room, the Invisibility Cloak thrown over her small form, the portrait of the Fat Lady closing the entrance behind her. This wasn't the first time she was sneaking off after curfew to do some research in the Restricted Section, but she still felt the butterflies in her stomach wreaking havoc. There was always the possibility of getting caught and she really didn't want to spend the rest of her holidays in detention.

Reaching the library she stood still for a few moments, listening into the darkness. Nothing. Slowly she opened the heavy oak door and slipped in. She headed straight for the Restricted Section and only after she had reached the part dedicated to advanced Charms books, she got rid of the cloak. Conjuring a softly flickering blue flame with her wand she searched the rows of books until she found what she had been looking for.

"'The Theory of Soul Projection.'" she whispered.

Carefully she removed the heavy tome from the shelf and sat down with it at the nearby table. Skipping some chapters she reached the right page: _Chapter 5 – How to preserve your current identity in inanimate objects_.

_That's it!_ She grinned to herself.

_This very old technique of preserving one's state of mind in inanimate objects has officially been banned by the Ministry of Magic in 1753, because of the dangers that are connected with it. The casting of this charm not only preserves the projection of one's present identity, but embeds a part of your very soul in the chosen object. The size of this part varies with the type of projection that is desired.  
The most powerful type of projection not only contains one's thoughts and memories, but also an image of one's physical appearance. _

Suddenly Hermione heard footsteps and the sound of the door of the library closing. Hurriedly she shoved the book under her robes, extinguished the flame and hid herself under the cloak. Barely daring to breath she crawled under the table, she had been sitting at. Not three seconds later she heard the iron door of the Restricted Section fall close.

Snape.

Her Potions professor swiftly hurried past the Charms section, no doubt heading for the Potions section.

_If I'm lucky he's off again in a few minutes_. she thought, adrenaline coursing through her blood.

Then she heard a chair creak against the stone floor and a deep sigh as Snape sat down. Maybe she would have to wait a little longer than just a few minutes.

Snape slowly opened '1000 Potions containing Powdered Dragon Scales', oblivious of the girl sitting under the table just a few rows of bookshelves down. Reading through the contents he immediately found what he had looked for.

_Soul Searcher  
This potion, if brewed correctly, will uncover the identity of every person, who is emotionally attached to a certain item. Three drops spilt on this item will cause the desired reaction and the image of the person will be seen.  
The process of brewing will take two weeks, but has to be started on the first day of the month._

_The potion will have to wait for a few weeks, then. _Snape scowled. Looking at the bottom of the page he noticed the warning in great red letters: ILLEGAL, BANNED IN 1896. He decided to politely ignore this particular piece of information. He took out a piece of parchment and his wand and after muttering the right spell the parchment was the exact copy of the page of the book.

Suddenly he heard a soft 'thud' a few rows down the Restricted Section. Holding his wand more tightly than usual, Snape cautiously went from bookshelf to bookshelf, looking for the source of the noise.

In the Charms section he finally found said source. In the shadows, half under the table, half lying in front of it was Hermione Granger, know-it-all extraordinaire, fast asleep with her arms tightly clutching a book.

Snorting Snape lowered his wand and stepped closer until he was standing in front of the sleeping girl. Muttering "Lumos." he took a closer look at the sleeping form, finding that strangely her legs seemed to be missing. Kneeling down beside her, he moved his hands where her legs should be and suddenly felt the fine cloth of the Invisibility Cloak. He lifted it slowly and found her legs had reappeared.

_Where did she get that? An Invisibility Cloak is something extremely rare. _

Taking the cloak and folding it neatly, he decided to have some fun and wake her up. Loudly he cleared his throat and when she stirred he whispered in his most fear-provoking voice into her ear.

"Miss Granger, why exactly are you sleeping on the floor of the library? In the Restricted Section no less?"

Hermione awoke at the sound of someone whispering into her ear. Slowly she opened her eyes and found herself face to face with no other than Severus Snape.

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A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. :)


	4. Back to Misery

Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR owns everything.

Chapter 3 – Back to Misery

Hermione awoke at the sound of someone whispering into her ear. Slowly she opened her eyes and found herself face to face with no other than Severus Snape. She inhaled sharply, jerking upwards in a sitting position, nearly hitting her head at the table. Frantically she searched around her for Harry's cloak, but couldn't find it anywhere.

"I trust you are looking for your cloak, Miss Granger." Snape sneered, holding up the cloak he held in one hand.

Hermione's eyes slowly wandered from the floor upwards over the tall form of her Potions professor, reaching the neatly folded piece of cloth that was Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Pray tell, Miss Granger, what exactly where you doing at this time of night in the Restricted Section, wearing an Invisibility Cloak? You do know how many rules you broke with this little stunt, do you?"

Snape's voice had considerably risen in volume until, at the end of the second question, he had practically yelled at her. Hermione winced. But when she didn't say anything and only stared as if in shock at his hand that held up the cloak, he positively screamed.

"Answer me you insolent little girl!"

Opening and shutting her mouth a few times, Hermione didn't know what to say. She looked at Snape's face and found him staring at her, completely livid. How could she have fallen asleep? She didn't even remember closing her eyes. Finally she managed to croak,

"So-Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean to be caught? I suppose so. Well, well, 50 points from Gryffindor. And you, Miss Granger, will serve detention for the next month. I hope the book you were reading is worth this trouble. Give it to me." Snape said, his velvety voice full of contempt.

Cautiously Hermione held out the book to him. Gripping it fiercely, Snape jerked it away from her, examining the cover.

"Soul Projection? A very interesting topic, indeed. But don't you think it surpasses your level of understanding? You should better study for your NEWTs."

At that Hermione glared at Snape.

"Stand up, will you!? And now go back to your room!" he spat.

She complied, slowly standing up from the floor. When she brushed past Snape, she already fought the tears.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and turned around to look at Snape, praying for him not to notice that she was near a nervous breakdown. "Yes, Sir?"

"Your detention starts tomorrow evening. Seven p.m. in my classroom. And don't even dare to be late."

"Yes, professor." she answered and continued her way back to her room.

The next morning at breakfast Hermione told Harry and Ron her trip to the library. But she left out the reason why she had gone there in the first place. She didn't need them to be more concerned than they already were.

"Snape caught you!?" Ron asked with a disbelieving look on his face. "Wow, now you're really in trouble."

"I have to serve detention for the entire next month. And he took 50 points." she answered.

"The entire month?" Now it was Harry's turn to look disbelieving at her.

Suddenly Hermione blanched. "Oh, and Harry, he also took your cloak. I'm so sorry, I really didn't want this to happen..."

"No problem, Hermione. At least you're still alive." Harry smiled. "I don't even want to imagine what the greasy old bat could have done to you."

"Harry, he couldn't have killed me there in the library, even if he wanted to, you know."

"Never underestimate the power of magic." Harry said in a whisper. "I bet he has just the right plan to make everyone believe, that you were still alive. He would force some Slytherin to drink Polyjuice Potion and impersonate you until graduation and then fake your seemingly 'natural' death. Or he would carry your corpse to the Forbidden Forest and tell everyone, that you've been killed by a centaur on one of your rule-breaking night time strolls."

At that Hermione mock-glared at Harry and forced herself to crack a tiny smile. She then looked serious again and continued to pick at her food. Her appetite had been practically non-existent since Christmas, but forcing down the food would be worse than not eating at all. And it wasn't as if she didn't eat anything at all. She did, just not much.

"Ron, Harry, I'm off to the library. Meet you at lunch."

Both boys nodded, looking worried. They had scheduled some extra Quidditch practice for those that had stayed at Hogwarts and now needed to be present, if something should happen.

Hermione stood up, took her satchel and left the Great Hall.

Sighing Hermione sat down at her favourite table in the library. How had she managed to fall asleep?

_I knew that Snape was just a few rows down the room. Well, now I can forget the research. I don't have any chance of getting into the Restricted Section any time soon. _she thought. _And detention with Snape will be torture. _

And for all that had happened the damn diary incident was to blame. Why had she gotten so worked up anyway? She knew the answer. That person had read her thoughts and mocked her. Normally she would have just brushed off the insults, but it had been a topic, where she had finally – and only after a long time - decided to face the facts. Well, she admitted that her anger and the task of researching had made her forget her sadness, but that had only been temporarily. Now her sadness had come crashing down full force, again. And, again, she couldn't confide in anyone.

Hermione hid her face with her hands and fought to strangle the sobs that started to shake her body. Hurriedly she stood up and ran from the room. She didn't care for the disapproving look she was getting from Mme. Pince, she just needed to be alone.

At seven o'clock sharp Snape heard the knocking on his classroom door.

"Enter." he snarled and went back to grading some abysmal third year essays.

Quietly Hermione Granger entered the classroom and closed the door behind her. Stepping in front of Snape's table she waited for her instructions. After three minutes of being ignored she carefully cleared her throat.

"Professor...?"

Snape glared at her. "Miss Granger, how can I _help_ you?"

"My detention, Sir. I..." she started only to be cut off by her professor.

"Shut that silly mouth of yours!" Slowly he rose from his chair, leaning over the table towards her. "Have you no manners, girl? Now, go make yourself useful." Sitting back down on his seat, he said with a dismissive gesture, "Clean the cauldrons there in the corner. No magic. The sponge, cleaner and a bucket can be found in the third closet of the right. You can go when you're finished. And, Miss Granger, I wish no further interruption."

Hermione nodded briefly and went to work.

_I must not cry, I must not cry._ she repeated in her mind to calm her down. _What's up with me? Now I can't even handle a petty comment from Snape._

Stubbornly wiping away a tear that had managed to slip from her eyes, she started to scrub the cauldrons more fiercely. At half past eleven she was finally finished with her work. Looking up, she noticed that Snape had left the classroom already.

_Fine._ she thought.

Cautiously she emptied the contents of the bucket with a flick of her wand. At her way out of the classroom she found a note that lay on one of the tables, labelled with her name.

_Detention tomorrow evening at 6 p.m. in this classroom. And I won't tolerate your silly sobbing. Next time I will deduct points._

Crumbling up the parchment in her hand she stood there, angry, for nearly five minutes fighting back her tears, again.

_How dares that bastard._ she cursed and purposely shut the door of the Potions classroom with a loud 'bang'.

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A/N: Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them. :)


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